Maria Castillo's Family

Michelle Sinchi is organizing this fundraiser.

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I've created this fundraiser to help out my dad. After my mom passed things have gotten incredibly hard, especially financially. My dad is working so hard and trying to do what's best for us. I know this hasn't been easy on him and I'm just trying to help him out so even if its only a dollar we are beyond thankful.

If you have a minute, this is a story about my mom and I.

Hi my name is Michelle and I am Maria's daughter. Maria passed away on February 22, 2024. Maria passed away at the age of 43. I am going to tell you a little bit about my mom. My mom was born and raised in Chaco, Argentina. Like all of us she had hopes and dreams she wished to accomplish. One of her hopes and dreams was to come to the US. So, in her early 20s she came here to NY. She didn't always have it easy and she worked for every last cent she had. Eventually she met my dad and eventually they got married. Two years after they got happily married they had me and two years after that they had my sister. For most of my early childhood we lived in Queens, NY, later on after my grandfather passed away we moved to LI, NY. Now we have been living here for 8 years. My mother and I have always had a close bond. I went every where with her. My mom used to clean houses for a living. So, I would go with her, although I was only a child I would attempt to help her but that was only to keep myself busy while she actually worked. As I got older she kept cleaning and I actually would help her clean. Like I said, I went everywhere with her, did everything with her. My first language is Spanish because I grew up in a Spanish speaking household. In most of my early childhood my mother only knew how to speak Spanish but she taught me how to speak English. I struggled a lot to learn English. I went to an English speaking school but I could not learn English for the life of me. Eventually my mother taught me English using books and now I speak fluent English thanks to her. Me learning English was something major. Since she didn't really know much English, me knowing English meant I could help her out at doctors and speaking to basically anyone who didn't speak Spanish. I only had one little problem with that, I was extremely shy. By the age of ten my mother had taught me how to make my own appointments, speak to doctors, insurance companies, billing companies, and any other person. I had matured at an early age to say the least. I hated the fact that I had to mature at such an early age and my sister didn't. My mother once said to me "Michi perdóname que te hice madurar a tan temprana edad, y yo se que eso te da hiras, pero un dia me vas a agradecer." (Michi I'm sorry that I made you mature at such an early age I know it bothers you but you'll thank me one day) When she said that to me in my mind I had said "I am never going to thank you." 4 years later I was standing by her bedside, watching her be in a coma, and thanking her for making me mature at such an early age. Because, she taught me to speak up and to not fear speaking to people, because when doctors wanted to know about her health history I could tell them every last bit because the truth is I know my mother like the back of my hand. Every health problem, every pain, every problem, every thought, every feeling, every emotion, every idea she had I knew about. Every thought, idea, feeling, emotion, health problem, pain, problem I had, she knew about. Many will say "I'm sure she didn't tell you everything, she supposed to protect you from the real world." My mother didn't protect me from the real world, she did something even better for me. She taught me how to protect myself from the real world. So yes, I did know everything about her. Everything that she has experienced since I was born up to February 22th, 2024, I know about. I know some stuff here and there about before I was born too. In the last few years my mom started developing a lot of new health problems. She was constantly in pain and struggling. We were always at the doctors together and the doctors would always tell me some new health condition she had. My mother was never a complainer so she always suffered in silence. She would laugh and joke around with you all day but every night before bed I would rub healing ointments on her body because of the amount of pain she felt. In the morning she would take 13 different pills to get her through the day. The pain and health problems only worsened with time and eventually it killed her. It killed my best friend. The summer of 2023 my mother had gotten me a job at McDonald's with her. I was ecstatic to be working with her. Our bond only grew bigger and stronger. Although I was working 8 hr shifts 5 days a week all summer long, I wouldn't change it for the world. We were best friends "mejores amigas." That summer we made up all time we had lost while she was in the hospital back in 2021, but she was only getting more sick. This time we were making up was sacred. My mom had heart problems, migraines, diabetes, high blood pressure, allergies and sensitivity to everything, asthma, anemia, arthritis, gastritis, insomnia, poor blood circulation, low iron, consent swelling in her feet, cholesterol issues, the list goes on forever. Due to this we were always going to doctor appointments. My mom's English had improved immensely but I would still miss school just to go to her doctors appointments. She never asked me to, she didn't have to. She always would say "if you go down, I go down with you, and if you go up, I go up with you" and we lived by that. If she struggled I struggled with her. If she got sick I got sick with her. If I struggled she struggled with me and if I got sick she got sick with me. There were times she would spend nights at the hospital and I would sleep right next to her bedside making sure nothing would happen to her. Then my dad would bring me home for a few hours and he would stay with her, but eventually I would go back and stay with her again. I have my own health issues so whenever I would stay the night at the hospital she sat right by my bedside making sure nothing were to happen to me. We stuck together through thick and thin. Of course we argued and fought but at the end of the day we were together. We talked about everything. Every night I would go to her room sit on her bed and talk about my day and she would tell me about her's. We would stay up late just simply talking and sometimes we would talk so much we would fall asleep together. When she couldn't sleep at night she would come sleep with me. We would blast music in the car on our way to work. I would buy her a pink drink from Starbucks every time before work. Now she's gone. Now I don't sit with her at night and talk to her, now I don't go to work with her, or fill out another information sheet for one of her doctors. I don't blast our favorite songs to work or drink pink drinks. I don't clock into work with her or clock out with her. Now I go about my day without telling her anything, I go to work by myself, get up in the mornings without her telling me to get up, and I go to sleep late because I can't get used to the feeling of not talking about our days together and because when the night comes around a wave of realization hits you that she really isn't coming back. The mind has its way of coping and mine thinks that she'll eventually return but the truth is she won't. One day i'll be 70 yrs old and I still won't have seen my mother. Decades will pass without me every speaking to her again. The truth is time doesn't heal, you simply learn to live with that pain. You adjust and so does your heart. I only had one grandparent growing up and that was my grandfather, my first best friend. I cherished him more than life itself. Ever since he passed, whenever I hear someone mention there grandfather, my chest hurts, because I know that I will never experience what they experience. Now every time someone mentions there mother my chest hurts knowing I'll never make another memory with her. I have lived beautiful experiences with her. Experiences that have made me who I am today. My heart is molded by my father and mother but my mother poured a lot of her personality into making me and my father poured a lot of his physical traits into making me. I miss my mother everyday and I miss how I used to laugh with her because when I laughed with her our laughs were different. I laugh almost everyday but not in the same way as I once used to. I hope I do again one day. I dream of her every night and most of the time in my dreams I'm aware that she has passed, we both are, so I sit and talk to her about all the things that I can't in the real world. She still gives me advice, laughs with me, spends time with my dad and sister, and even goes to work with me but only in my dreams. Dreams are based off your subconscious but sometimes it helps me sleep better at night if I think that maybe she's somewhere out there talking to me through my dreams. So, basically, what I am trying to say to you with this story is that if you have the blessing of having your mother, father, grandfather, grandmother, or even siblings. Go give them a hug just in case because you never know when you'll hug them for the last time.